Chapters Howard Hall wore a look of pure unadulterated skepticism, as he sat at his breakfast table, with his hands in his lap, and his eyes transfixed on the two other occupants of his morning breakfast nook. He woke up that morning still wearing what he had on the night before, and given the lack of attention to his hair, it was clear to the others that he emerged from his room with nothing done to straighten his appearance.
"I sort of thought, you two would be gone when I came to, this morning."
Seated across from him at the table were two small sized ponies. One bright white one with electric blue hair, a single unicorn horn, and red eyes; and the other a slate gray pony with black hair, and violet eyes. Both of them sat watching him as he sat there, unmoving, and firmly convinced his mind had snapped moments before.
"Hey dude, like we said last night; we're here because of a wish you made. You wanted to be better at music, and we were asked to come here and teach you." The white one was gesturing aggressively as she spoke, as the other one nodded.
"Uh-huh."
The slate colored pony stared blankly at Howard as he in turn stared back, and gradually his skepticism gave way to sheer disbelief. Though he did manage to contain himself rather well, rather than run screaming from the apartment like he wanted to do, he settled for getting up and walking to the coffee pot. His feelings on the matter were up for debate, as he poured a cup of black coffee and took a sip of the dark brew. His eyes were shifting from one to the other as he took in the caffeine.
"So, what exactly am I supposed to call you two?" he said, the hot beverage burning his throat, though since he was a stone's throw from being crazy, he figured that it didn't matter all that much in the long run, so long as there was something tangible in the physical universe to keep him grounded. "I mean, it seems as if you two aren't interested in going anywhere, so as terrible figments of my imagination, you should be called something."
"You think that we're figments of your imagination?" the gray pony said; her mouth hanging open slightly at the incredulity of the insinuation.
"You know what? You're absolutely right. We haven't even told you what our names are, we know who you are, but you have no clue about us; it's probably no wonder you're all messed up in the head." The white pony smiled and struck a pose. "The name's Vinyl Scratch, and this is my good friend, Octavia."
Sitting back down at the table, Howard regarded them both as if he were still looking at the very sight of Lucifer, or the head welcoming ambassador of the underworld. "It's a pleasure."
Taking another drink of his coffee, Howard set the cup down, and took a deep breath. "Alright, so let's see if I can get this straight." He watched as Octavia got up from the table and went to the coffee pot and sniffed around it. "You two are from some other world?"
"Yes," Vinyl said, nodding excitedly. Finally, it seemed as if the duncenheimer was coming around.
"And... you heard me make some drunken wish, about sucking as a musician?"
"Yes," Octavia said, as she struggled to reach a cup from the cupboard, both of her front hooves out, and hopping on her back hooves to reach higher.
"Okay. So, then why in the name of blue perfect hell, did the gods, or divines, or... "
"Uh, Princess Celestia," interjected Vinyl nodding her head.
"Fine. Princess Celestia. Why in the name of Princess Celestia did the two of you get sent to help me? Why not someone, or something, more, human ?"
"Hey don't ask us skinny," Vinyl said, as Howard rose from his seat to go help Octavia with a cup. "We were hanging out at an after party event, and the next I know, the royal goon squad shows up, making with the severe routine, and we get handed invites back to the palace. Princess shows us some human slobbering on his floor about sucking at life, makes us an offer we can't refuse, and boom... here we are."
"Gee, that's a really charming way of putting it." Howard said, pouring himself and Octavia a cup of coffee. "So do you two do this sort of thing a lot? The whole, um, granting wishes to poor slobbering idiots?"
"First time," said Octavia, gingerly bringing the cup to her lips.
"First idiot," Vinyl said, holding her hand out for a cup. "Where the hell's my cup at?"
"Wow. So you two seem awfully calm about all this. I guess you've met human beings before, then."
"No, first time for that too. But with all the strange things that happen in Equestria, you sort of get used to seeing strange creatures." Octavia walked over and handed her cup to Vinyl Scratch, who took a gentle sip of the brew.
"Hey, add some sugar to this dammit!"
"Get you're own, if you don't like it." Octavia said, sitting back down, then turning to Howard. "So, you seem just as calm. Do you get lots of visitors from other worlds?"
"Uh, no. In fact, I'm still pretty sure you're all figments of my imagination, and when I get back from work, you're going to disappear, and I can go back to my crappy performances, and crappy life, and consider checking myself into A.A. afterward."
Octavia and Vinyl both looked slightly stunned at the response, and coughed it up as some sort of post traumatic twitch. The poor fool was obviously in heavy denial, and there didn't seem to be any fixing what was broken with him. That is until Octavia hit upon an idea to prove their existence.
"What if there was a way to prove to you that we were real?" she asked him. "You'd believe us then, right?"
"Well maybe," he said sipping at his coffee. "That depends on what you plan to do."
"Hmm, nothing much," Octavia said, removing herself from the table and walking around to where Howard was seated. Motioning for him to come down to her eye level, since at full standing height, she only came just above his navel, she waited as he complied.
"Okay, so what's the point in all this?" he said, just as Octavia brought her hoof back, and punched him in the side of the cheek as hard as she could.
The force of the blow was enough to send Howard reeling back, and landing on the floor with a loud smack. Then rubbing his face as he cursed loudly, and scrambled back onto his feet, he loomed over the pony, and glared at her menacingly.
"That hurt!" Reaching down, Howard scooped up Octavia with both hands under her front legs and brought her up to his eye level, where she began to writhe and squeal, kicking at him. "What the hell did you do that for?!"
Landing a kick to his stomach, Howard dropped her on the floor, where she scrambled around and kicked him in his leg. Vinyl Scratch on the other hand was laughing hysterically, from the moment that Octavia sucker-punched Howard to the moment she landed on the floor.
Rushing to stand behind where Vinyl sat at the table, Octavia shouted at Howard, "Do you believe I'm real now?!"
Sitting on the floor, rubbing at his shin furiously, Howard had to admit to himself, that it was pretty solid proof that she was real. Figments and hallucinations didn't usually manifest pain in the one having the mental issues.
"Damn, you hit me in the face... and the shin." Howard was out of excuses. If they were real, then life just tossed him one hell of a curve ball. "Alright. I admit it, you might be real. But it still doesn't explain why my wish granted me help in the form of two ponies—that can talk, and can sit at my table drinking coffee."
"Hey dude," Vinyl said, finishing the last of Octavia's cup of coffee, "it's not like we decided to be the granters of your wish either. We're stuck here until your gig is finished, so the pressure isn't on just you slim. We have to get the job done, or we don't get paid."
Standing back up to join them at the table, Howard frowned. "Wait, you two are getting paid for this?"
"Well, yes," Octavia said, snatching her cup from Vinyl, and smacking her in the back of the head. "We were asked to do this, as a job, not as a favor."
Rubbing his face, Howard had to admit, that it made some kind of sense. Asking two people, or ponies as the case may be, to travel to another world and grant a wish was a pretty tall order to not have some sort of monetary compensation. "How much are you getting paid?"
Octavia looked at Vinyl, and the two of them blinked a few times before she said, "Uh, you know... now that you mention it; we seem to have forgotten about that."
Howard couldn't help but suddenly burst into laughter. "You mean, you took this job without even knowing how much money you were going to get?"
Frowning, Vinyl slapped a hoof on the table. "It's not funny, Mister Boo-Hoo; we're doing you a service. The least you can do is show us some respect."
"Yeah right," he said still laughing. "This is too good. I get a wish granted, and my two fairy godmothers are most likely going to get the shaft; which doesn't say much for me in the long run."
Getting up to make another cup of coffee, Howard noticed the clock in the kitchen, and bolted for his bedroom. "Ah crap, I'm gonna be late for my shift."
A few moments later, Howard returned to the breakfast table, wearing a blue polo shirt, with his hair combed, and styled, and smelling like cologne. "Hey, listen. I'm still not entirely convinced that you two are on the level, but for what it's worth, I'll trust that maybe you two are real, at lest for now; which means that you need to stay put. No leaving and freaking out the neighbors, and people in the apartment building."
"You want us to stay here?" Octavia said, alarmed at the sequestering. "But what if we get bored?"
"There's a TV in the living room, and snacks in the fridge, just do me a favor and don't wreck the place, and or leave. Got it?"
"Yeah," said Vinyl as she saluted with her hoof. "We got it."
Giving them both a serious and doubt riddled expression of worry, Howard left the apartment. Vinyl and Octavia could hear his footsteps down the corridor as he ran.
"So, how about that cup of coffee you owe me?" said Vinyl, holding out Octavia's empty cup.
—|—|—
After Howard bolted out, Octavia and Vinyl Scratch were left in the kitchen staring around at his apartment. The night before they hadn't had much of a chance to examine where they were going to be staying, and they figured this was as good a time as any, to familiarize themselves with where they would be staying, for who knew how long.
"This sure is different from the houses in Equestria, isn't it?" Octavia noted, as she slowly walked from the kitchen through to the bedroom where Howard had spent the last night crying and drunk.
"Yeah," she said. "You can say that again."
"Okay, so we're here to help this dude get better at music, right? So why don't we get together a game-plan, and tackle this beast head on?" Vinyl made her way to the small living room and jumped up on the large recliner, stretching her back hooves out.
"Oh, please. Like you've got it in you to formulate a plan about anything," Octavia said with a sneer. "At best, all you do is shoot from the flank; play it by ear; and, stop me if I'm missing anything—go with the flow."
"Damn," Vinyl said with a wicked grin, "you know me too well. But with the way your attitude has been lately, I wouldn't be talking about flow."
Realizing that Vinyl was using the word "flow" synonymously with "menstruate", Octavia frowned and looked away indignantly. "You, are disgusting."
"Game plan. Hello," Vinyl said, rocking back in forth in the recliner, trying to make it more comfortable. "The kid needs some lessons, and I don't have my gear, and you don't have Chell. So what are we going to do?"
Thinking about their options, Octavia had to admit that there was little that they could do if they didn't have the necessary equipment, so the first order of business was to examine the quality of Howard's gear, and see exactly what it was that the two of them had to work with.
"This is pretty cool, though," said Vinyl, looking around at the inside of Howard's living room. The pictures on the wall, of city skylines, neon colors, and dark fabrics; it gave the apartment a neat relaxing atmosphere. Vinyl nodded her approval. There weren't a lot of things she liked regarding interior decorating, but whoever this guy was, he had good taste.
"To be honest, I'm scared to death," Octavia said, walking toward the second bedroom, where Howard's music equipment was stored. "Why Princess Celestia selected us, is beyond me. Especially when there are composers, and musicians a thousand times better than the both of us put together."
"Hey, Ocee, speak for yourself; but I'm pretty confident in my abilities."
"Your ability to what... trash the masters?"
Gingerly turning the knob, and opening the door to the bedroom, Octavia sucked in air quickly as she saw Howard's music room. From top to bottom, it was lined with guitars, keyboards, amps, drums, music stands, straps, what seemed like thousands of feet of cables, and enough recording gear to make a studio. Octavia wasn't sure why, but the sheer overwhelming array and assortment of musical instruments made her want to swoon, and gave her a slight twang of heat in her lower parts. She couldn't believe it, but she was actually being turned on by what she was seeing.
"Who is this guy?" Octavia said, as Vinyl Scratch walked in the room.
"Beats me—holy shit!" Vinyl instantly slumped to the floor, and twitched visibly. "I think I just came."
—|—|—
"No. No. NO!" Howard pounded his steering wheel as he switched off his turning signal, and settled into the right lane on the freeway. "This. Is. Such. SHIT!" He pounded again, in time with each word. Shaking his head, he visibly fought with with his own self-logic. A horn from a car next to him, brought his eyes darting to his left, and he saw the driver in the car next to him making the classic "crazy" swirling motions with his finger next to his head.
"Yeah!?" Howard screamed at his window. "Well, fuck you too buddy!" Hitting his horn with the heel of his hand, he accelerated his '08 Honda and switched lanes, getting in front of the prick. Then hit his horn a few more times for good measure. "Jerk off!"
Rolling his shoulders a time or two, Howard switched his radio on, and tried to calm himself. The fact that he was playing host to two talking horses from another world was a fact of life that he was not wanting to acknowledge yet, and besides, he still had his shift to worry over. Just let them be, and maybe they would do like he thought earlier, and just leave. Yup, sounded like a great plan. Don't screw with them, and they wouldn't screw with him, and everything would work out in the end.
He was making great strides with his plan to focus out the strange visitation, when a Coldplay song came on the radio, and he was reminded in stark clarity about his drunken binge and crying fit the night before. "Shit!" More pounding on the steering wheel.
When Howard made it to work, he jumped from his car, and ran in. he was huffing and breathing hard by the time he slid to a halt next to the time clock, and hastily punched his card. Letting out a ragged sigh, he turned just in time to bump chests with the Assistant Manager.
"Cutting it a little close today, aren't you Hall?"
"Hey Harv," Howard said, side stepping him, and making for the door of the break-room.
Putting his arm out to prevent him from passing, Harv said, "You know... I don't know why you bother coming in here at all. Your mind is never on your work, you hate dealing with customers, and you always reek of booze or the last night club you swam in."
Even-though Howard did his best to ignore Harvey, he still wanted to punch him in the face. He looked up at the ceiling and pretended Harvey was a walrus, that was being repeatedly slammed by a whale's tail onto the sharp jagged rocks of some far off shore.
"You know what I think?" Harv said.
"No Harvey, I already forgot since the last time."
"I think that the old man makes you do this job; because if you didn't, he wouldn't be sending you those monthly checks, buying your shit, and paying for your apartment."
"Are you finished?" Howard said, turning his head, and giving Harvey a sidelong glance.
"Yeah, I'm done. Number five is on it's last quarter, so we need to make sure one of the morning shift change the ink in it for the afternooners. And, there's an order for ten thirty." Harv allowed Howard to pass, and then rubbed his head. He walked away mumbling to himself about how is life was damned.
It was a near routine thing. Howard would come to work after the weekend, and the assistant manager would rail on him. It wasn't because the assistant manager didn't already make enough money, or the fact that he wasn't mostly in charge of the store, and it wasn't that he was a bad guy. It was the fact that Howard's father, Preston Hall was the owner of the Copy Hall chain of copy centers, and general manager.
Most of what Harv had said was true. The old man insisted that Howard wasn't just going to mooch off of the family, and that if he wanted his equipment, his apartment, and his fun paid for; Howard was going to show some sort of work ethic, and hold down a nine to five. So while Howard was sure that Harv was acting like a junkie on the rag, he couldn't blame the guy for venting to him. No one vented to the owner, and so, Howard adapted to the routine.
Letting out another ragged sigh, he pushed open the door of the break-room, and walked toward the counter at the back of the store. He put on his best smile, and allowed his gaze to drift over the sales floor. With one more heavy exhale, Howard reached under the counter and lifted up the baseball cap with the store's logo on it, then affixed his name tag to his shirt which read, "Howard Hall, Manager."
"Morning, Mister Hall," said Kimberly, one of the morning shift workers, as she brought out a stack of copy paper reams, and set them under the counter. "Long weekend?"
"You could say that," he said, as he settled in behind the counter and began tallying up the inventory from the weekend's usage. He would need to place an order later that afternoon.
—|—|—
Standing outside Howard's bathroom door, Octavia waited patiently for Vinyl Scratch to finish. She could hear all sorts of grunting and water splashing in there, and considered going in, but given what Vinyl had told her before bolting for the bathroom; the last thing she wanted to see was Vinyl with her hoof between her legs, rubbing one out in the corner. Finally she settled on, just asking if she was alright.
"Yeah, I'm fine. This thing is a royal bitch to use though."
"Can you hurry? There are others that are needing to go too." She knew she shouldn't have had that much coffee.
There was another bought of straining and grunting, and then water running. "Hey Ocee, you need to see this."
"Vinyl Scratch, that's disgusting. No-pony wants to watch you pee."
"Not that! Just hurry!"
Taking a deep breath before opening the door, Octavia braced herself for the inevitable, and did a double-take when she saw Vinyl Scratch standing on a stool in front of the mirror styling her mane. "Pretty neat, huh?" Vinyl Scratch said, as she magically lifted a comb and teased at her new spiky hairdo in the mirror.
"What are you doing?"
"This dude's place is amazing!" Vinyl said, bringing up the hairspray and adding more to the top of her mane. "You should try this stuff; it'll work wonders even for you."
"Some of us have been waiting to go," Octavia said, feeling her bladder quiver. "Can you please get out."
"You sure you don't want a lesson on how to go?" Vinyl said, as she hopped off the stool and motioned for the white porcelain toilet.
Regarding the toilet for a moment, Octavia realized that unless she were about two or three feet taller, she was going to have difficulties. "Alright. How did you do it?"
"First, I though that maybe if I stood on it, I could sit on it like a chair, but that didn't work, and I ended up stepping in there. Not pretty! And then, I thought about raising my back-end, and that didn't work, because my legs don't go that far apart to go over each side of it."
"Can you get to the part where you were successful?" Octavia said, tapping her back hoof on the tile to keep her mind from her bursting bladder.
"Right, I'm getting to that. So, I thought about just going in the shower like back at college—"
"Vinyl Scratch!"
"Fine... you're no fun!" Sliding the stool up to the front of the toilet, Vinyl Scratch lifted her back legs onto it, and hunched her back, and lifted her tail. "See. This way everything sort of falls out into the water in there."
"Ugh! Do you have to be so gross!? You could have just told me, I didn't need a demonstration." Pushing Vinyl Scratch out of the bathroom, Octavia gave her a mean look, and slammed the door. Seconds later, Vinyl heard the sound of water hitting water, and figured that she had it figured out.
Touching the top of her spiked mane with her hoof, Vinyl grinned, and sauntered off to the music room. It was time to jam.
When Octavia had finished washing her hooves in the bathroom, she went in search of Vinyl Scratch. It didn't take her long. As soon as she exited the bathroom and made for the living room, she heard what sounded like drum beats emanating from the music room. Rolling her eyes, she trotted into the bedroom, and saw Vinyl Scratch sitting on a drum stool, and smacking the two toms of the drum kit with two sticks.
Clearing her throat as load as she could, Vinyl stopped banging on the drums, and turned to look her way. “Can I help you?”
“That's my line,” Octavia said, stepping in further, and frowning. “I don't think you should be touching Howard's things without his permission.”
“Don't be such a downer!” Vinyl said, striking the snare a few times and nodding her head with each strike. “If we're going to teach the guy anything, we need access to the stuff.”
There was a muffled thumping from somewhere in the apartment, and both Octavia and Vinyl looked around trying to determine where it was coming from. Hitting the snare three times in succession, Vinyl waited, and after a few seconds there were three more muffled thuds from what sounded like the ceiling.
“That's odd,” Octavia said.
“Yeah, really odd.” Looking over the drums, Vinyl grinned widely. “Let's see what happens when I do this!”
Kicking the bass drum, and rolling the two drum sticks over the toms for a few seconds, she finished the miniature solo with a generous bass-kick and cymbal crashes.
Smiling and waiting, Vinyl Scratch heard four heavy thuds from the ceiling. It seemed they were almost right on top of her.
“I never thought your music would be so bad, that even a ceiling hates it,” Octavia said, frowning.
“You should hear some of that cat wailing you do on Chell sometimes.”
There were four more loud thuds, and then Vinyl Scratch jumped off the drum stool, and pounded the bass drum pedal repeatedly. “Stupid ceiling! What do you know!?”
“Vinyl stop! You're going to break Howard's drums, and he's not going to like that. He already thinks were hallucinations. We don't want to be thrown out for breaking things.”
“Fine!” she said, hitting the petal once more. “It's cool. The ceiling is stupid anyway.”
“I'm not so sure it was the ceiling, I was just saying that to—”
Octavia was cut short by a sudden pounding on the front door. Both she and Vinyl Scratch exchanged glances, and moved into the living room to see what the disturbance was.
“I know your in there, you son of a bitch!”
There was someone pounding on Howard's front door, and they were yelling obscenities at him. Octavia just shook her head. The poor fool didn't know that Howard was already gone.
“Do you hear me Hall!?”
“Do you suppose we should tell them that Howard is gone?” Vinyl asked.
Octavia shook her head. “He said to keep out of sight.” There was more pounding. “I wonder what's got that human so worked up?”
“I swear to God, that if I didn't have to work the graveyard shift tonight, I would drop bulldozers right over your bedroom! Do you hear me? The Super is going to be hearing about this!”
“What a strange place this is,” Octavia said, as she sat on the carpet in front of the door and stared at it.
—|—|—
Seated behind his desk in the manager's office during his lunch break, Howard flipped through a local phone book between bites from his energy bar he had purchased from the vending machine. His first thoughts had been to find a nice quiet low profile psychiatrist; but considering that he was a massive consumer of alcohol during his nights at the clubs, he figured he might would need a doctor.
Finding a local family practitioner that specialized in substance abuse, he considered dialing the number but stopped short. He wasn't a drug user, so perhaps they wouldn't be best. He was about to close the book in frustration when he came upon a center for neurology, and a light went off in his head. Maybe what he needed was a brain doctor.
He tapped in the number, and waited for the call to connect. He was greeted by the center's receptionist.
It was the usual routine. They ask him all sorts of questions, he answered to the best of his abilities; but it was when the woman on the other end of the line asked about the specifics of his wanting a scan of his brain, he was hesitant to answer.
“I think I'm experiencing hallucinations,” he said. “And not the normal ones, like Elvis or Jesus, or Gandhi... I'm talking about the real disturbing ones.”
“Can you describe them for me?”
“I'd rather not, it will sound somewhat insane; and I'm not looking for that kind of doctor.”
“If I don't have a complete list of your ailments Mister Hall, then the physician won't know how to diagnose you.”
That was suddenly a terrifying word to Howard. The idea of being diagnosed was somehow more frightening than actually seeing the ponies in his house.
“Mister Hall?”
“Uh, yeah. I'm still here,” he said. “Okay. I'm seeing two horses in my house.”
“Horses?”
“Yes ma'am, two of them. And they... say things.” Christ this was starting to sound more like crazy talk and nothing medical. He waited on the line for a long grueling pause.
“Is there anything else? Besides the horses that is.”
“Uh... nope. That's it. Just talking horses. Oh and they drink coffee,” Howard said. “I don't know how important that is, but you can put that down.”
“Right.” There was another pause. “So let me make sure that I've got all this. You have sustained no head trauma recently.”
“Nope.”
“No sudden migraines, and no visual issues.”
“Nope.”
“You haven't experienced any stomach upset, nausea, or vomiting, and you have not consumed any expired products.”
“Uh-huh.”
“There's been no drug usage, or barbiturates.”
“No, ma'am.”
“The only thing you have done recently was consume large quantities of alcoholic beverages. Correct?”
“That's right.”
“Do you happen to remember consuming, Absinthe?”
Howard had to thing about that one. There was usually a heavy spread of booze at most of the parties that he attended or performed at; but he couldn't remember any Absinthe. “No, I don't think there was any of that. But of course I can't be sure, to be perfectly honest.”
"So... how soon can you guys fix me?" Howard asked after waiting again for the woman to say something.
"Well, unfortunately Mister Hall, we have to first find out what's wrong with you, before we can try to determine the best method for fixing you."
"So then, there is something wrong with me?" he said.
"Most definitely. People don't usually see talking horses, Mister Hall."
There was another pause on the line, and Howard could hear some heavy fast typing through the receiver. Hurriedly he shoved the rest of his energy bar into his mouth, and chewed. His cheek was bulged, and his tongue was incapacitated, when the receptionist came back on the line. "Mister Hall?"
Howard chewed as fast as he could to clear his mouth enough to answer her, but realized that might would mean choking; so he simply stopped chewing, and hummed, "Mm mmm."
"There is an opening tomorrow afternoon at two thirty with Doctor Gutierrez. Can I put you down?"
Rolling his eyes in frustration at the bite he was forcing down, he finally pounded his chest, and took the whole swallow. Then a deep breath. "Yeah! Yes, that's fine. Two thirty tomorrow afternoon."
Hanging up, Howard, left his office, and walked back into the break room to get a soda. Walking up to the soda machine, he fished in his pocket for some change, when one of the employees walked up to him, and handed him a phone message.
"What's this?" he asked, taking the note, and looking it over.
"You were on the phone when you got a call from your building's superintendent."
Reading the note carefully, Howard frowned. "What, now?"
"Apparently there was some kind of noise violation there, and he was calling to inform you about it."
"From my apartment?" Howard said, letting the change in his hand fall back into his pocket.
The employee just nodded her head, and blinked at him. "That's what he said. He said it sounded like someone was pounding on some drums."
"Well I wish I'd gotten this before I made that call," Howard said with irritation.
"Which call?"
"The one for the... never mind! Just get back to work."
If there was noise coming from his apartment, then it meant two things to Howard. One; he was now sure that they were real, because it meant that, others in the apartment could hear them. Two; it meant that he was pretty sure it was Mister Hockney on the floor above him that lodged the complaint, and he was going to have to do some major ass-kissing when he got home.
Shaking his head, Howard proceeded to violently tear the phone message to little pieces, not bothering which of the employees saw him. "Stupid ponies!"
—|—|—
With the refrigerator wide open, Vinyl Scratch stared at all the various foods and items in there. She was having a hard time deciding which of them were edible, and which were not. Howard had said that there were snacks in there, but he had failed to mention which ones were the actual snacks.
"How hard is it to find food?" asked Octavia as she paced the kitchen behind Vinyl. "Just grab something that looks like oats or hay."
"That's just it, I don't think this guy eats that stuff."
"Well, there has to be something. Let me take a look," she said, moving to shove Vinyl away.
"Hold your nickers, I think I found something." Bringing out a roll of cranberry bread, she presented it to Octavia with a beaming grin. "Lunch is served."
"Does he have any grass water?"
"Didn't see any of that. There's some water in little hard bottles, and then there's milk."
"Oh, I want milk."
"Milk it is," Vinyl said, as she set the bread on the table, and pulled out the gallon of milk with both hooves. "Here, you open this stuff up, and I'll find us some glasses."
Going to where the coffee cups were kept, Vinyl used her magic to open the cupboard, and bring down two more cups. Placing them on the table next to the milk, she used her magic to then pour the milk, once Octavia removed the plastic cap.
"Make sure you put this back where you found it," Octavia said, after Vinyl had finished pouring them both a cup of milk.
"What did you think I was gonna do? We are guests here, you know." Shaking her head, Vinyl levitated the milk back to the refrigerator. Then turning to Octavia, she said, "What now?"
"Let's find a place to eat."
Once they had everything on the floor in the living room, Octavia watched as Vinyl scrutinized the hi-def television. She was standing in front of it, rubbing her hoof to her chin. "Usually there's always a power switch."
Taking note of the brand name on the front of the TV, Octavia pointed a hoof at the remote, and said, "What about that. It has the same markings as the screen."
"Good eye, Ocee." Grabbing the remote, Vinyl scrutinized it and found what she was looking for. A small red button near the top of the row of buttons. Pressing it with her magic, she jumped slightly in surprise, as the television snapped to life, and the two ponies were met with HBO, and The Sopranos for the first time in their lives. It just so happened to be a scene from "Johnny Cakes" where Vito and Jim are going at it, and Vito had a pipe.
"I don't like violent movies," Octavia said. "Is there a way to see if it does something else, or if something else is showing?"
"Hmm. There are some little buttons here with arrows on them going up and down. Maybe one of them will work." Pressing the up button with her magic, the screen changes, and they are presented with another channel, and this time, Tom Hanks, and Meg Ryan kissing.
"I said I didn't want to watch anything violent; that human is clearly devouring the female's face." Octavia brought her hoof up to shield her eyes.
"I don't think so," Vinyl Scratch said, looking more closely. "I think they're kissing."
"K... kissing?" Bringing her hoof down, Octavia leaned closer and looked. "That's not kissing."
"Well, maybe not to us, but it is for humans." Scooting closer to Octavia, Vinyl put her hoof around her, and leaned in making smooching noises. "Wanna give it a try; heaven knows you haven't done much kissing with any colts lately."
"Get off. You're one to talk," Octavia said, as she shoved on Vinyl's shoulder.
Suddenly the idea of kissing, had them laughing, and Octavia pointed at the screen. "So let's see how humans kiss," she said, and took a bite of her cranberry bread.
For the next three hours, the two of them sat in front of Howard's television watching chick-flicks and laughing at the complications of human romance.
—|—|—
For the last two hours of his shift, Howard had done little besides stare into various voids while doing his job. One moment he would be at the counter assisting an employee with an errant register. The next, he would be scuttling across the sales floor checking the pricing labels on computer printers, and all-in-one copy machines. Eventually, Howard ended up in his office, sitting behind his desk, staring off at the wall, and ignoring the calls that were coming in for him.
When he failed to come to a customer service issue at the register, Harv went looking for him. "What the hell are you doing?"
Looking up sharply from his blank far-away stare, Howard said, "What?"
"I said, 'what the hell... are you doing in here?'"
"I'm having a very bad day Harv."
"Oh, boo-hoo, tell me another one. The day's over and you've spent most of it hiding."
"What did you say?"
"What are you deaf as well as lazy?" Harv said. "The day is over, you've pissed away most of it."
Bolting up from behind his desk, Howard all but tore the frame off when he ran into it, and kept going straight for the front of the store.
"You forgot to clock out, dumb-ass! Aww forget it!"
The drive back to his apartment was another exercise in impatience, and Howard did his best to calm himself. He had been relatively under control that morning, because he was operating under the false assumption that the two ponies were figments of his imagination. Now that he had more solid proof that they were real, his brain spun with a hundred different possible logic-shattering conclusions and world-changing scenarios that awaited for him back at his one safe harbor: his home.
When he pulled into the parking garage of the apartment, he found his spot, and pulled forward, nearly hitting his bumper against the wall, and with a loud groan, parked and disengaged the engine. Taking a few deep breaths, he twisted the rear-view mirror and gave his appearance a checking; realizing that he had left work in his cap and name tag.
With a faint hint of disgust, he took them off, and sat them in the seat next to him. He had enough on his mind that, he didn't need to be reminded of work and world skipping talking coffee-consuming ponies.
When he arrived outside the door to his apartment, he took a few deeps breaths, and inserted the key in the lock. Unsure what to expect, he twisted it, and the door knob at the same time, and swung the door open. What he expected to see was two fire-breathing ponies hovering off the floor and enraged at his doubt, and unbelief; instead he saw the two of them curled up next one another on the carpet in front of the television.
Octavia was the first to notice that he had entered, and waved at him, "Hello. Welcome back."
Vinyl Scratch responded similarly, as Howard lightly stepped into the living room, and sat his keys on the coffee table. he took a quick glance around the apartment, half expecting it to be ruined or trashed; but there was nothing out of the ordinary. They hadn't pulled a John Bonham or Jimi Hendrix. No setting any instruments on fire, or tossing televisions out the window. They had behaved themselves.
Sliding down into the recliner, he rubbed his hands across his face, and regarded the two of them, as they sat there and watched him closely. "Hi," he said.
The two looked at one another, and frowned. "Hello?" they said in unison.
"I just... ju... just wanted to apologize. For this morning. That is, I uh, I owe you two an apology, because you're real, and I'm a dumb-ass."
"Hey, it's cool," Vinyl said, as she stretched out on the floor and laid on her side; propping her head up with her hoof. "I'm sure if you suddenly popped up in the middle of one of my gigs and started spouting wishes and junk, I'd be like, 'Yo partner, back that the hell up and give me a better running start.' Yeah?"
Both Howard and Octavia exchanged looks, and said, "What?"
Vinyl said, "Huh?"
"Never mind," Howard said, settling back into his recliner. "The fact is, I now believe you, so there. For what it's worth."
"If you don't mind me asking," said Octavia, as she regarded vinyl as she scratched at her stomach with her hoof, in an un-marelike manner. "What was it that finally convinced you?"
"Oh yeah," Howard said, leaning forward in his chair. "I got a call from the building superintendent. He said there was a noise complaint from the guy upstairs. Something about loud drumming."
Cutting her eyes at Vinyl, Octavia cleared her throat at her friend.
Vinyl Scratch feigned innocence. "Loud drumming, huh... you don't say?"
"Vinyl!"
"So it was you!" Howard said, collapsing back in his chair.
"Well, how was I supposed to know you weren't alone in this house."
"It's not a house. It's an apartment building, it's huge, and there are small houses inside it, on each level. The guy above mine is a total douche-bag, and hates it when I crank up my music."
"So that's what that noise was from the ceiling," Vinyl said, nodding her head. "I thought the ceiling hated my playing."
"No just him," Howard said, letting out a small groan. "He probable beat on his floor to shut up the noise, then stormed down here and pounded on my door."
"That's about right," said Octavia. "We're very sorry."
Waving his hand absently in the air, Howard said, "Nah, it's alright. He's a jerk. It's my fault for not mentioning it sooner. It's because of this cramped living condition, that I have to go practice at my friend's house. He has a studio apartment above a warehouse, and we can make as much noise as we want there." Feeling a twang of hunger, Howard rubbed his hands together. "So, listen. To make up for that whole, not thinking you two were real thing, this morning; how about I go buy us some food for dinner?"
"Now you're talking, tiny," Vinyl said, as she sprawled on her back on the floor, and rubbed her stomach. "Me likey food!"
Letting out a small gasp, Octavia walked over, and tapped Vinyl Scratch with her hoof. "Vinyl, you should be more modest, you're showing off." Looking over at Howard, she smiled, and giggled embarrassingly loud.
Howard wasn't entirely sure he understood, until he looked down, and saw that in the position Vinyl Scratch was laying, she was completely spread-eagle, and showing off more than just her stomach. Suddenly feeling heat build in his cheeks, Howard looked up at the ceiling.
"Aww, let him look. He won't see anything finer." Vinyl said; sticking out her tongue, and rubbing her stomach more.
—|—|—
Standing outside apartment, four-zero-six, Howard knocked, and waited. He knew eventually he would have to face the music, though he never expected to be facing it for someone else. After about thirty seconds, there was the sound of heavy foot falls, and the door opened. Taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, Howard remained as stoic as he could manage, as he came face to face with the occupant of the apartment above his, Adolf Hockney. Known far and wide as the S.S. of the complex; the Gestapo of Tenants; the Hitler of the Fourth Floor, and Satan's Bitch.
For the longest moment in the history of Howard's life, he stood outside in the hallway; looking up at the six foot three inch Hockney, and felt every bit of his own five foot eight inches want to wither under the heaviness of each passing second.
"There was some noise coming from your place, Hall," Hockney said.
"Uh... yeah. Ahem...yup, there was."
"I had to notify the super."
"Yes... thank you, for that... I mean, uh... thanks for bringing it to my attention," Howard was feeling his life-force begin to wither under the blackness of Hockney's soul.
"Some of us work nights, Hall."
"Right. I completely understand... and... "
"And?"
"And, well, it won't happen again."
"Uh-huh." Hockney, leaned further through the door. "What I want to know, is how you could be banging your shit, if you were at work."
"That's because, I have talking horses in my apartment," Howard said, hoping that he could offset the tense situation.
"Are you trying to be, funny?"
Well, it was a nice shot, but it failed. "Yes, I am."
"Care to explain?"
"My sister and her daughter are visiting, and uh... the little one, she got on the drums, and started going to town on them."
"I didn't know you had a sister."
Nodding his head profusely, Howard lied through his teeth. "Oh yeah, yeah... she's foreign. I mean, she usually lives in foreign countries, and stuff, and doesn't get the chance to get home."
"So it was the kid?"
"Yeah... s'right. Uh-huh."
For the span of several heartbeats, the Hitler of the Forth Floor eyed Howard, then receded back slightly into his apartment door. "Well, in that case. It's cool. So long as they know that some of us have jobs at night, and sleep during the day."
"Oh, absolutely, they know. I made sure to bring the god-damn hammer down. That little one wasn't spared anything, I let her have it, and then let her have it some-more."
"That's what I like to hear. I'll swing by on my way in tomorrow, and let the super know."
"Oh, that won't be necessary; I already told him. He's perfectly fine with it, and I explained it... so there's no need, to uh, to mention it... at all."
When Hockney closed the door, Howard felt some of his life-force return to him. Strength once again surged through his legs, and his stomach ceased its endless looping. With a final shiver through his backbone, he regarded the door of Satan's Bitch, and slowly backed away. Now that his brush with death was out of the way, he could go back to living a full and happier life.
—|—|—
When Howard returned from getting fast food, and his brief encounter with the Gestapo of Tenants; he entered his apartment, and saw Octavia and Vinyl Scratch sitting on the couch, rolling with laughter.
"Hey you two, what's so funny?"
"You have to see this show, dude... it's like the best thing I've ever seen!" Vinyl Scratch was holding her sides with one hoof, and pointing with the other.
Setting the bags of food down on the coffee table, Howard looked at the television, and saw a bright blue mongoose cowering outside of what looked like a giant pet store; and some bobble-head girl speaking to him in a headset. "Uh."
"It's called, Littlest Pet Shop ," Octavia said, grinning.
"What the, huh?" Howard said, causing Octavia and Vinyl Scratch to gasp and stare at him.
"That's what that Blythe girl says!" Vinyl said, jumping on the couch. "Are you sure you aren't a secret fan?"
"I will admit to nothing!" Howard said, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the coffee table, and reaching for the bag. "But if you want food, then you better get it while it's still hot."
"Right-on!" Vinyl said, leaping off the couch, and sliding up next to Howard. "So what do you got?"
"I went the quick route, and got cheese burgers, and fries." Howard passed one to Octavia, and one to Vinyl, before placing one in front of himself. he was so preoccupied with fishing out the bags of french-fries, that he failed to notice the looks of confusion the two ponies were giving him, until Vinyl tapped him on his arm.
"Pardon, but, what exactly is a cheese burger ?" Octavia said, as she slowly unwrapped the bundle. "It smells wonderful, but I can't say as I've ever had one before."
As Howard sat the last of the fries down in front of Octavia, Vinyl used her magic, and unwrapped hers, licking her lips. "It's a cheese burger," he said, "you know, beef, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and oni... on... " He watched as Vinyl Scratch had the burger up to her muzzle and had her mouth open wide, when the light went off in his head, and every red flag inside him began dancing on their flag-poles.
"STOP!" he yelled, throwing his hands out across the coffee table, in front of all of them.
"Damn, dude!" Vinyl said, as she brought the burger down. "Don't have a spazz-attack."
"You can't eat those," Howard said, breathing heavy. "I wasn't thinking... you just, sorry, my mistake."
"I don't understand," Octavia said. "Why can't we?"
"Because, they have beef in them," Howard said quietly. "It's just wrong."
"What's beef?"
"It's beef, you know meat?" Instantly, Octavia dropped her burger back onto the wrapper, and regarded Howard with a ill expression.
"You eat, meat?" she asked.
Howard nodded.
"What kind of meat is it?" Vinyl asked, using her magic to separate the bun and peer at the contents.
"It's beef, beef... you know, cow?"
"Oh my dear," Octavia said. "I didn't realize that you were a meat eater. You don't, uh, eat ponies do you?"
"Yeah, sure... I've got a whole package of pony steaks in the refrigerator there next to the severed heads. Of course I don't eat ponies!"
"Tell me again why I can't eat this?" Vinyl said, closing the buns together and smelling the cheese burger.
"Because, it's just morally wrong. Feeding a cow to a horse, is just... trust me it's wrong. I'll admit if it was a cowboy and I was feeding you that, then there would be some twisted sense of irony to it; but I can't in good conscience let you eat that."
Sharing a brief look with Octavia, Vinyl shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, you know what they say... when in Roam , right?" Before Howard could protest, she took a huge bite, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, sweet stars; this is good."
Howard and Octavia both looked on as she chewed on her bite of cheese burger. Howard felt sick to his stomach, and Octavia clearly looked indecisive.
"Hey, Ocee, you gotta try this cow. It's really tasty."
Despite Howard's protests, Octavia's stomach was the ultimate deciding factor. Reluctantly she brought the cheese burger up with her hooves, and said, "We will tell no pony of this."
Octavia and Vinyl Scratch both shared a look of disbelief as they watched Howard getting blankets and pillows down from his hall linen closet. In his attempts to make his guests comfortable, he thought it would be wise to gather as many blankets and pillows as possible, so that when he came back into the living room he was carrying a stack that reached nearly to the ceiling. It wobbled back and forth as he stepped from the hallway to the living room and then tossed them down in the lounge chair.
"Well, I think this should be enough to make you all nice and comfy," he said grinning. Then noticing that both of the ponies were frowning, he asked, "What?"
"Well," Octavia began, "we were hoping that we could maybe, uh... "
"What we're saying is, we want a bed." Vinyl Scratch stamped her foot on the carpet once to emphasize the demand. “We didn’t have much of a choice last night. But tonight, things will be different!”
"Oh, is that right?" Howard said. "You want a bed?"
"We don't think it's very fair that you put us on the floor. We are your instructors after all." Octavia ended her statement with a smile to neutralize any tension.
"If anypony needs to be on the floor, is should be you, mister." Vinyl was narrowing her eyes at him.
"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses," Howard said bringing his hands up defensively. The two stared at him as if he had just made a derogatory remark. "I'm not putting you on the floor. But short of sleeping in the bed with me, there aren't any other beds here in the apartment. So I'm going to put you both on this." Reaching between the back pillows of the sofa Howard grabbed a small metal handle and pulled, extending the folded up hide-a-bed under the bottom. "It's a folding bed sofa."
Vinyl Scratch looked impressed with the ingenuity of the whole thing and curiously pushed on the mattress with her hoof. Octavia on the other hand was too skeptical to consider it. She gave the mattress a sniff and wrinkled her nose. "It smells funny," she said.
"What do you mean, it smells funny?" Howard gave the bed a cursory glance, then leaned over to give it a whiff. It didn't smell very fresh, sort of had a tangy cloth fragrance that clung to the back of the throat. It had sorely needed to've been aired out on the last really sunny day. Standing back up right, Howard regarded the two ponies, and then grimaced as Vinyl Scratch bounded onto it.
"This isn't too bad," she giggled, then rolled onto her back and splayed herself out immodestly again. "I bet you could put three or four ponies in this bed."
"Well, I'm just glad it's the two of you, " said Howard, doing his best to keep from watching Vinyl. "If I had more ponies, then the world may become unbalanced and everything could blow up."
Octavia stood staring at him for a moment, blinking her eyes. "Is that something that could happen?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Alright, I get the point that maybe this mattress could use some cleaning, and it sort of smells like last year's sweaty socks. So I'll make a deal with you."
Rolling over and giving the mattress a sniff, Vinyl conceded that it was rather yucky, and brought a hoof to her nose.
"What is this deal?" Octavia turned her head sideways as she waited for an answer.
"I'll sleep on the floor, and you two can have my bed. Provided you don't do anything weird or strange in it."
"Hey, what sort of ponies do you think we are?" Vinyl said raising herself up from the mattress, and glaring.
"I don't know. You're the first ponies that have ever been in my apartment before; certainly the first ponies that have ever been in my bed before. So I'm not exactly sure what you could do. There might be drooling, or shedding, or any number of things."
Bringing a hoof up, Octavia relented and said, "Okay fine. We won't do anything strange or weird in your bed."
"Thank you. That's all I could ask for."
—|—|—
The floor turned out to be more uncomfortable than Howard ever thought possible, and he ended up standing in the middle of his floor looking at the two ponies setting up right in his bed and shrugging his shoulders. Octavia and Vinyl could only look at him with mild pity as he stood there looking from the floor to the bed, and then eventually, he blew a strong gust of breath through his mouth and glared at his bed with firm resolution.
"Alright, this is how it's going to be." Without further ado, he swooped down and picked his pillow up from the floor and tossed it on the bed next to Vinyl Scratch. He figured that if he had to make a choice, he would pick the side with the pony that wouldn’t find his closeness an obnoxiousness.
"Sweet," Vinyl said rubbing her hooves together. "We get a new sleeping buddy."
“Don’t get too excited,” Howard told her as he wiggled under the covers, and put his arms behind his head. “I’m just wanting to sleep, not play games, or get weird about anything.”
“Yeah, we got that.” Vinyl had her hoof out straight, making slicing motions with it. “Nothing strange, and no drooling.”
“Goodnight,” Howard said, letting out a loud yawn. He was tired. His eyelids felt heavy against his eyes, and the world began to blur and distort as they closed. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having to sleep next to ponies. They were sort of warm, and the bed hadn’t felt this kind of cozy since he’d gotten it.
In a few minutes, there was the discernable sound of snoring coming from Howards side of the bed, and Vinyl was holding her hooves to her ears. “Please tell me I’m not gonna have to listen to the snooze concerto in E flat all night?”
Nudging her slightly with her hoof, Octavia motioned toward Howard.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,” Vinyl said shaking her head. “Speak up.”
More gestures, and several firm jabs towards Howard.
“I still don’t get it. You want me to punch him in the face?”
“Ugh! You are so bad at this! No, I want you to roll him over, sometimes that helps.” It was too dark for Vinyl to see the scowl on Octavia’s face.
“Oh, well why didn’t you say so.” Then as an after thought, she said, “Wait a minute, who’ve you been turning over in their sleep?”
“Does that really matter right now? Just do it, or you’re going to be the one with the concerto in E flat all night.”
Annoyed, Vinyl sat up in the bed, and scooted closer to Howard. His mouth was open and an unmistakable gurgling could be heard from the depths of his throat.
“This is so gross sounding,” Vinyl said, as she placed her hooves on his shoulder and gently pushed. “It sounds like that time I got plastered and forgot to adjust the compression on Wubby.”
“Vinyl!” Octavia hissed.
“It’s called a mating buffalo sound.”
“Vinyl!”
“Because… uhnn… it makes the amplifier feedback with too much sustain… uhnn… damn this dude is heavy.”
“Vinyl Scratch, I swear to everything sacred and holy I will take an axe to your gear when we get back if you don’t shut up, and get him moved!”
“Alright!” Vinyl roared back over her shoulder before groaning loudly and pushing with all her might.
Her hooves slipped on the fabric of Howard’s shirt, and she slid on top of his chest, causing Howard to rouse up and mumble.
Both ponies froze instantly. This was what he obviously meant about doing something strange, and they didn’t either of them, want to get caught. Watching to make sure that Howard wasn’t fully awake, Vinyl let out a sigh of relief when he closed his eyes, and drifted back to sleep.
“That was too close,” she said, moving her hooves to get better footing so she could get off of him.
It didn’t do any good. Before she could back away, Howard snorted, then reached and wrapped his arms around Vinyl. The two of them now firmly intertwined in Howard’s firm embrace as he rolled over on his side, taking a shocked and terrified pony with him.
Octavia watched in horror as Howard began to cuddle Vinyl. She could make out a hoof here, a muzzle there, and then all was settled. She waited for sounds of movement, but after a few moments all she heard was the sound of Howard begin snoring again.
—|—|—
The next morning, the three of them stood side by side in front of the mirror in Howard’s bathroom. Each of them had a toothbrush, and their expressions went from wide awake and refreshed to that of groggy, and lastly to miserable. The miserable expression going to Vinyl Scratch as she used her magic to suspend the toothbrush and slowly run it inside her mouth.
“I have to say, that I slept pretty good, last night.” Howard had his toothbrush out, and was running it under the water to moisten the bristles more. “Sorry, if I thought you two were going to do anything weird.”
“Oh… it’s no problem,” Octavia said, then cut Vinyl a sideways glance.
Slowly taking the toothbrush from her mouth, Vinyl continued her straight forward stare at the mirror. “I think I was molested last night.”
“Hm?” Howard said, unable to hear her over the sound of the sink faucet, as he turned it up to rinse his brush.
Only vaguely aware of her surroundings, Vinyl’s lack of sleep caused her to miss her mouth with the toothbrush, and she plunged it straight into her eye.
After swishing him mouth with water from the tap, Howard exited the bathroom, whistling. “I’m gonna make us some breakfast,” he said.
“Would you quit acting like a zombie,” Octavia scolded, as Vinyl rubbed at her eye. “You were not molested in your sleep. Fact is, you probably liked it.”
“I could’ve done without the snoring though. It’s always a mood killer.”
“Hey!” Howard said, suddenly peeking back around the corner. Both ponies jumped in surprise. “I was wondering what you’d want for breakfast.”
“Whatever is convenient,” Octavia said.
“What about you, Vinyl?”
For a moment, she actually blushed, then looked down at the floor. “Uh, lots of coffee.”
“Okay.”
“Uh-huh, see there,” said Octavia, noticing the blush as she nudged at Vinyl. “You probably took advantage of poor Howard, and used him to get yourself off. Feeling guilty are we?”
Vinyl had her mouth open wide with an accompanying look of shock with her toothbrush dangled from the inside of her cheek. “Now who's talking vulgar? In case you haven't forgotten here, I'm the victim."
"Oh please. More like the victim of a deep itch; I've been your friend too long to not know when your rubbing one out next to me!"
"You're one to talk. You wouldn't touch yours with a three foot stick—or, wait a minute—maybe you do, and that's why you can't live without Chell."
Vinyl and Octavia were nose to nose at this point. Their eyes were glaring, and their teeth were bared.
"I'm not a pervert!" Vinyl said with a mild growl.
"I'm not a cold fish!" Octavia growled back.
The glaring lasted for a few minutes, and then slowly they each took a deep breath. Octavia was the first to open her mouth, followed immediately by Vinyl Scratch as they quickly wrapped their front hooves around each other and planted their mouths hard against the other's.
"Hey guys, I was wondering if you'd seen my loaf of cranberry... " Howard stopped in his tracks when he rounded the corner to the bathroom. Vinyl and Octavia were still locked in their kiss, and he suddenly felt a rush to his head. "N... never mind."
Everyone was quiet around the breakfast table that morning. Howard sipped gingerly at his glass of orange juice, occasionally switching to his coffee and bite of eggs. For some reason, he was reminded of the morning before, when they were seated around the table, and he was in a secure sense of denial.
Octavia kept her face even, and her eyes down at her plate while she ate, while Vinyl Scratch slouched in her chair, shifting her eyes from between Octavia and Howard. She clearly wasn't wanting to make eye contact with anyone. And it may have been Howard's imagination, but it seemed as if there was a discernible pink hue to her cheeks.
He was definitely going to ask about how that worked later on.
Figuring it was time to break the uncomfortable silence, Howard cleared his throat loudly. "So, I was thinking," he said. "I'm going to take the day off from work, and maybe we could go to my friend's place and you two could get a listen to what my style is all about." Looking up, Vinyl Scratch showed some mild enthusiasm, but was otherwise unfazed by the idea. "I thought maybe you could start in on my lessons... if you two wanted to."
Letting her eyes roaming between Howard and Vinyl, Octavia let out a sigh. "Of course, we'd be delighted to get underway with the training," she said, as she brought up her napkin to wipe at the side of her mouth. Giving a sterner look at Vinyl, she continued. "Isn't that right, Vinyl Scratch?"
Slowly bringing her eyes up to look Octavia in the face, Vinyl nodded.
This was beginning to be too much. They were acting like members of Jefferson Airplane and they weren't even a real band. Howard slapped his hand lightly on the table in front of him, to get their attention. "Look," he said. "I'm not going to stick my nose into anything, but I just want to let you know, that I don't want you two feeling weird about what happened earlier. I didn't realize that you two were... uh, together; so now that I know, I just want you to know, that I'm cool with it."
Blushing harder, Vinyl Scratch stood up in her chair, and regarded Howard with a frown. "We aren't together!" she blurted out. "We're just friends, okay?!"
"Vinyl, calm down!" Octavia said, scolding her; then turning to Howard. "Our relationship, is sort of complicated," she said.
"Fair enough, just so long as everyone understands that this has been a rather strange and freaky past couple of days; we should be good. If you guys want to do the freak-nasty, then that's your deal."
Vinyl Scratch just scoffed, and resumed staring down. Octavia took it as a good sign. As long as Vinyl was quiet, then she couldn't say anything that would be embarrassing.
"What time do you want to go?" Octavia asked.
"I figure after we eat should be fine, but I'll need to figure out a way of sneaking you two out of here."
"I really don't think that the human population will think it so strange to see us," she said. "I mean, you do have horses and ponies in this world."
"Yeah, but like I keep saying: there are no talking ponies here. They are silent animals that laze away all day in the fields eating grass, or being entertainment for little girls at their sixth birthday parties, where they get smeared with cake and ridden for hours."
There was a mild unified look of confusion and revulsion on their faces. Vinyl Scratch sat there with her mouth slightly agape, and Octavia's eyes were wide. "Surely, you have to be kidding about that, right?"
"I wish I was," Howard said. "I wish I was."
Once the breakfast dishes were cleared away and in the sink, Howard officially introduced his two guest to his music room. It was still impressive enough to elicit a whistle from Vinyl, as she stood in the doorway of the spare room, all but twerking from her caffeine rush.
"Do you know how to play all these instruments?" Octavia asked him, as she ran her hoof across a Yamaha keyboard. She had almost forgotten what it looked like inside the room from the day before.
"I can play a few of them," Howard said going to the row of guitars on the wall, and selecting a semi-hollow body Gibson Memphis, jet black, complete with black soap-bar pick-ups and a Bigsby tremolo. It wasn't the nicest that he had displayed on the wall, but he figured that it would do for a practice jam session.
"Woah, that thing looks expensive."
Stopping mid search for the hard case, Howard regarded Vinyl Scratch as she rooted through a stack of musical folders with various riffs and scales.
"It's pricey," Howard said nodding. "I'm not sure what you use for money, or what the exchange rate is, so I'm not sure if I could give you an accurate comparison."
"What does an apple cost here?" Octavia asked, making her way past the drum set that Vinyl Scratch had pounded on the day before. "For us, an apple costs a half a bit, and a bit will buy a big loaf of bread."
"Okay, that sounds about on par with our dollar. So then, if one of my dollars is about the same as one of your bits, then this guitar cost me around one thousand, two hundred bits."
Turning her gaze back up toward the wall of guitars, Octavia noted that he had at least a dozen dangling from wall mounts. Not to mention the other pieces of musical equipment. "Why do you have so many?"
With the correct hard case for the Gibson in his hands, Howard turned to see that Octavia was looking at him questioningly. "It was always a dream of mine to have a big rock band. I wanted to either play lead guitar, or at best sing. I guess, I was a little obsessive about it. I wanted to own every awesome guitar, get every latest new effect pedal, soak myself in the music." Looking around the inside of the room, Howard let out a small sigh. "It just didn't seem to work out all that well. Real life got in the way, and when there's adult responsibilities, the dreams get put on an indeterminate hold."
For a while there was silence, as the three of them milled about the room. Vinyl Scratch was more or less contented with watching as Octavia and Howard made their small talk, but when things turned silent, she too fell into the realms of the quiet. It was one of those things that they may have forgotten. They were all adults here. Howard was a working male in his modern times, as the two ponies were in theirs. He spent his days dreaming of something better, and working to achieve those goals, and they each worked as best as they could to get ahead with their dreams.
Granted, Octavia and Vinyl Scratch were closer to their dreams than Howard, they could still, nevertheless, relate to him on that level.
"Alright, that just leaves some cables and an amplifier," Howard said as he fast walked across the narrow space in the room in search of the items.
"That's great and all, but what are we supposed to play?" Vinyl Scratch was resting against a large speaker cabinet, nonchalantly gazing at the edge of her hoof, as though she were examining her finger nails.
"I thought I was just going to audition, and you were going to go from there?"
"No, no, no... sheesh. What is this, a tryout for a record label? You already have the gig, Tiny. What we need to be able to do, is instruct you on getting better; we can't do that without some gear."
Looking around, Howard saw that Octavia was nodding her head. Clearly, he hadn't given much thought as to what he was expecting to come from all this.
"Alright then, what instruments do you want?"
"Do you have a turn table?"
"Like a DJ table?"
Nodding furiously, Vinyl bolted from her spot and ran up to Howard. "Tell me you have a Wobble Master Six Thousand, with extended bass effect!"
"Uh... not really. I have a combination DJ table and beat machine. I normally just use it to generate generic background beats when I'm playing or practicing by myself."
Vinyl's face seem to fall at the thought of Howard using a drum machine as a generic music box. "How dare you use such a complex piece of equipment as a generic anything, mister!"
"What about you, Octavia?" Howard said, hoping to escape the harsh glare from Vinyl.
"I'll just observe for now," she said, sitting down on the floor, "if you don't mind."
"Suit yourself," he said, as he pushed Vinyl away from him. "I'll start loading this stuff in my truck."
With a loud "oomph", Howard lifted the guitar case and a large Vox amplifier and walked them out of the music room, toward the front door. He was barely gone five seconds when Vinyl Scratch started in on her friend.
"You don't need to play the part of a celibate monk, you know."
"I'm absolutely positive that I don't know what you mean."
Giving her eyes a quick roll, Vinyl said, "Don't play dumb Ocee. There, not two trots away is a perfectly fine cello."
"I'm not interested in playing right now," Octavia said, brushing off Vinyl's suggestion with a wave of her hoof. "I'm not being indifferent."
"No, I think that is exactly what you're being."
Tossing a massive glare at Vinyl, Octavia narrowed her eyes, then let out a massive pent up sigh of frustration. "Oh, all right... fine! So I don't want to play on some foreign cello. What are you going to do about it?"
Shrugging, Vinyl walked away slowly. "Guess there's nothing to be done then. You'll just instruct, and the rest of us will have fun."
"We aren't here to have fun; we're here to make this joker into a first rate musician. We're here to do a job."
"You know, I'm beginning to think that Celestia sending us here was some sort of punishment. The thought of being stuck here with you and your sad moody ass is down-right torture."
"Hah! You're one to talk. News flash, sweetheart, you aren't always rainbows and ribbons." Octavia was upright on her back legs with her front hooves resting on her sides.
"I just want to at least enjoy this, we should, right?"
Tilting her head sideways, Octavia had to consider that there were other ramifications to their sojourn rather than just assisting a fellow of the arts with his craft. It was entirely possible that Celestia in her infinite wisdom was working something deeper in the process for all parties involved. Nodding, she was forced to agree. "I'm sorry. I'll try harder to have a good time here."
—|—|—
The problem with getting two small ponies from the apartment wasn't just a challenge; it was down-right brutal. It wasn't as though he could have them simply stroll out in front of everyone, touting the fact that one of the boarders had two animals in his apartment.
After several rounds of protest, Howard was able to convince the two to be boxed up in a large gear crate, and wheeled out to the parking area, where he could let them out discretely.
"That was terrible," Vinyl said, giving Howard a serious punch in the leg. "I thought I was going to suffocate in there."
"It was rather uncomfortable in there," Octavia said, chiming in along with Vinyl. "Suppose the lock had gotten stuck, and we'd been forced to die in there."
"That would never happen," Howard told them, rubbing at his leg. "I would have known, and pried the latch."
Once they were in the front of his Honda, he instructed them to remain as close to the floor board as possible until he was sure that the coast was clear. After they were on the road, then they could come out and look around.
"Whoa, so this is what your world looks like outside," Vinyl said, pressing her face as close to the glass as possible.
"Yeah, it's something," Howard agreed.
Beside them, Octavia was sitting perfectly still, squeezing her eyes shut. She was holding her hooves to her stomach, and making light groaning noises.
"Hey, are you all right there?" Howard asked her, reaching a hand out to press against her head.
"I'm not feeling too well," she said, trying to swat his hand away while keeping her eyes closed. "I'm not used to travel of this sort."
"It doesn't bother me," Vinyl chimed.
"That's because you... do so much flailing on stage, you're already used to this."
"I meant to ask you earlier," Howard said. "What is it exactly that you do, Vinyl?"
"I'm a freestyle musical artist."
"More like freestyle noise maker," Octavia said between clenched teeth. "She takes records of better musicians, and scratches them to shreds."
"Are you sure you're okay, Octavia?"
"I'll be fine, as long as it doesn't take us long to get where we're going."
"She'll be fine," Vinyl said, giving Octavia a small jab to her side. "She's just not one for travel. Whenever she takes a train-ride, she usually barfs at least once."
"Vinyl! That's personal!"
"Well it's true. If she doesn't blow wads either going or coming back, it's not a road trip."
Offering Octavia a thin smile, Howard regarded her, and noticed that she actually seemed to be turning a mild shade of green. How in the hell did they do that?
"I'll do my best to get there as fast as I can," Howard told her. "Just hang on a little bit more."
It was fortunate for Howard, that his friend didn't live far, otherwise, Octavia would have been singing with the seals before too much longer. As it was, by the time he got there, she was already holding her hooves over her mouth, and making slight gurgling noises.
The warehouse was in a more private area, one with large parking, and despite that it was a refurbished warehouse, it was in a more secure part of the city. It wasn't a problem that the two ponies walked in on their own. Something that Octavia seemed eternally grateful for.
Karl's apartment was usually empty for days on end, so it wasn't a big deal for Howard to pop in whenever he felt like it.
"Are you sure it's okay for us to be here?" Octavia asked, trailing close behind Howard as he hoisted the musical equipment into the elevator.
"Oh, yeah, it's fine. He's a good friend from back when we were in a band together, and he knows about my situation. He lets me come here anytime I want. Which it why I have a key."
"What does this friend of yours do," Vinyl asked, as she and Octavia were led inside.
"He tours with his band, trying to get famous."
"If you're his bandmate, then why aren't you with them?"
"It's complicated," Howard said.
It didn't take long, and Howard had the gear inside, and set up. A large portion of the studio apartment was dedicated to band practice, and it featured a huge area just for equipment.
"So," Howard said, reaching for the Gibson. "You want something to drink, before we get started?"
"Nope," Vinyl told him. "Hit us with your best shot!"
"Are you sure, it's all right?" Octavia asked again. "I wouldn't want to make it complicated for you if anyone found out we were here."
"The chances of anyone walking in, are two million to one," Howard said, once more reassuring her.
Picking up his guitar, Howard was ready to begin a rousing rendition of Lightning Crashes by the band, Live when a noise came from the back of the studio, and his friend walked in followed by the other two members of his band.
"I told you, it was Howard," the taller of the three said over his shoulder to the others. "Hey, Howie! Three days in Dallas, and boy are my arms tired. So, what's happening dude?! Whoa! Who are the two hotties you've got here?"
At the first sound of noise, Octavia and Vinyl Scratch froze perfectly still, only their eyes widening the size of saucers. Octavia was no doubt running the numbers, and figuring that Howard's math was bunk.
"Hotties?" Howard said, regarding the three members of Wilted Garden. Then turning to Karl, he said, "Are you stoned?"
"Don't be a dick, Howie, seriously... who are these two lovely ladies?"
Exchanging looks with one another, Octavia and Vinyl could only wonder if maybe there was something wrong with the human's eyes. Turning to look at Howard beseechingly, Octavia asked, "What do we look like?"
"Uh... is this a trick question?"
"I'm rather curious myself," Howard said, gripping his guitar with a firm hand. "You don't see two ponies?"
"That's rather rude." Then turning to Octavia and Vinyl, he said, "Is he always this mean?"
"Seriously, dude?"
"Seriously, man," Dawson said, as he sat down on the small love seat across from the drum kit. "Those are two girls there, we aren't stoned, so you can't trick us."
"Yeah, the last time we did any kind of drugs was high school, and it was weed." Lonnie was agreeing, though Howard knew better. If anyone was doing weed then or now, it was both of them, especially, Dawson.
"You really don't see two ponies?"
"How many times do we have to say it?" Karl pleaded. "This joke is old. What's really happening?"
"Howard was just about to jam out, and let us hear what he sounded like," Vinyl said, jumping to the rescue. "If he's good enough, we might let him join our band."
Offering Vinyl a hard glare, Octavia reluctantly nodded her head. "Yes, that's right. We wanted to hear how he sounded in a controlled environment. Not some... club."
Waving the two of them over, Howard leaned down, and whispered. "What in the holy hell is going on? I thought you were ponies?"
"We are ponies," Vinyl hissed. "It's your friends that are screwed up in the noggin."
"They think you're human girls though."
"This is a good thing," Vinyl said. "It means we don't have to worry about being seen now."
Squeezing his eyes shut, Howard stood back up and considered the possibility that his life would be a lot better if other people could see them as human. It only brought up one huge issue. Why he saw them as ponies?
Going back to his position, Howard noticed that Karl was conversing with his friends. Before Howard could strum the first chord, Karl stood while Dawson moved to the drums, and Lonnie went to get a bass. "We're gonna give you a hand," he said. "Pick a song."
"Are you sure everything is cool?"
"If this is an audition, then yeah... we'll give you a hand."
"I was gonna do Lightning Crashes ."
"We can do better than that," Karl said, moving to grab a backup guitar and stepping front of a keyboard. "How about we go with some Biffy Clyro?"
"Hit me boys," Vinyl said.
~ * ~
Author's Note
For the record... any songs that are performed in this story are existing songs, used for fictional purposes.
